Letters From The Sky
by MorganaArthur
Summary: The final walk of Anne Boleyn with many memories in her heart...


Letters from the sky...

_Anne Boleyn_

I never would die so soon. So young. Too young. I whole life ahead of me but life there is not for me. I was fine doing everything they asked me to do, I am here . At the foot of the wall. Of the scaffold.

It 's gray today. Clouds crowd the sky. It might rain in London tonight. Thus , the sky will cry with me. In the air fleet perfume. Sweet intoxicating scent as a poison. The smell of death . Hovering around me. I feel it . It penetrates me like a blade penetrates me and my lungs burned, consumed them . Just the smell is killing me already . For small fires , I die, before the final chopper .

I am Anne Boleyn, wife of the great King Henry VIII and I'm about to die.

Sentenced to death by her own husband . Obnoxious, is not it ? I grant you . But it remains my beloved . The man who awoke in me a feeling repressed, ignored. The love. Yes, I love and love with passion. Perhaps it is this passion that has lost me? Die of love . I understand now . I die of love. To have loved too . Or maybe not enough?

I do not understand why I'm here . Why I advance towards death as if I was going through a corridor of the castle ? Often I walked through those long corridors. I admired the painted canvas on the wall. I loved to see around a corner , and steal a kiss. I loved listening to this restful silence at night. Person . Myself. Mistress of the castle. I remember now escape me . A trail of dust in heavy and suffocating public place where I will be running air. I have to face this cruel fate is mine . I arrive at the crowd. Throw me some looks curdling blood, other staring at me , full of mercy eyes. It touches me, touches me there . A final tender gesture on the part of the people to whom I have given everything.

I climb the steps one by one , slowly. It is as if time had no relevance here. I am calm . My breathing stabilizes. The words flow freely like tears . I know I'm dying . In 1 minute, 1 second. Henry ...

_Henry VIII_

_"Dear Anne ,_

I write these few lines in knowing that you will never have the opportunity to read. But my heart , so full of hatred as it is, I have to. I loved you, Madam . More than you can imagine. You have me lose my head Anne . I dedicated you were . Entirely at your service. Do not you call me "My servant " in your countless fiery love letters? But we must see things in the face , my beloved. This time is no more.

I do not know if I have to justify the gesture I made today and which leads you to death or apologize . Which amounts to quite the same thing. This is the duty of a king. I recognize myself loose by telling you this, but it is only the exact truth. A king must avoid any scandal that could damage his honor. You betrayed me Anne . And despite my love for you , I must apply the same penalty to a traitor to the crown . How I wish you never know Madame! So you would still be alive and you would never have suffered because of me. You would never have known the pain of losing a child . You would have married a respectable man and would have had a quiet life , away from the bustle of the court. Away from me. Away from the cruelty shown by human beings.

I admit it may seem tasteless now . But I always kept silent . Now I realize it's too late and my conscience yells me to write down his thoughts that trouble my mind. Spirit was once obsessed with you , my beloved. He still is , but it's too late for regrets . I write these lines in order that one day when I would be old and that reason has left my mind , this reminds me of my past sins .

I love you Anne . Never doubt the sincerity of those words. These words have long been mine. Yours. Ours. Remember that only my status king leads you to the scaffold. This is my hand and not my heart that pushes you to death. I know I 'm repeating myself . And I know that you would never know but I have to calm the war is conducted in my head. I'll have to live with this burden , the burden you have put to death. Anne , know that someone never troubled my mind as much as you . Does anyone ever made me feel such a desire . Know I will end after death , I will continue to keep you in a corner of my heart , the back of my head. I will continue to love you in secret. Farewell. My beloved, hoping to see you in heaven. May God have mercy on your soul and mine , as they are related . Always connected.

Your obedient servant , Henry VIII . "

The sovereign laid down his pen , hand trembling . He slowly got up, took the letter between the fingers. He approached the fire burning in the fireplace. He took a deep breath and a dry gesture , as if to soothe the pain , he threw the letter into the fire. The flames consumed him the parchment like love had consumed , Anne and her. He closed his eyes for a moment and then pulled himself together and went to the window.

He leaned his forehead against the cold glass. A shiver down his spine will travel . He closed his eyes again and discreet and silent tear rolled down her cheek.

Outside, the executioner took his sword . Anne turned her head . And it was over. At the top of the tower, the king saw a dove. Symbol of peace. Peace of his soul. The soul of a man , sovereign, torn between his duty and his love for a woman...

THE END


End file.
